


OT3-100 Krum/Fleur/Cedric Ficlets

by Salmon_Pink



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Character Death, Consent Issues, Crossdressing, F/M, M/M, Multi, Strap-Ons, Threesome - F/M/M, Voyeurism
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2012-02-25
Updated: 2012-07-06
Packaged: 2017-10-31 17:48:06
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 12
Words: 2,960
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/346772
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Salmon_Pink/pseuds/Salmon_Pink
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A series of ficlets written for <a href="http://ot3-100.livejournal.com/">OT3-100</a>.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Cold Shower Imminent

**Author's Note:**

> All 400 words or under, all rated individually, ranging from G to NC-17. Individual warnings on each chapter, where necessary.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Second Task, two temptations.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Written for [OT3-100](http://ot3-100.livejournal.com), prompt "awkward". Rated PG-13.

The crowd roars and Cedric blushes and waves, because that seems like the right thing to do in such a situation. Another swell of cheering greets his actions, so he can at least feel a little appeased, even if he imagines he looks a right prat.

The judges are all whispering frantically. Well, Karkaroff is actually being quite loud about Harry’s apparent absence and how he should be disqualified, but the others are whispering. Percy Weasley looks particularly outraged by Karkaroff’s antics.

Cedric focuses all of his attention on trying to decipher the whispers, because the alternative is looking at Fleur to his left, all long legs and barely contained breasts, or Krum to his right, with his ridiculously strong arms and exposed chest, and Cedric thinks that standing in front of a huge crowd in just his swimming trunks, trying to explain away a raging hard-on, would be rather embarrassing.


	2. Slow Burn

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fleur knew that dreams could become reality.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Written for [OT3-100](http://ot3-100.livejournal.com/), prompt "stretch". Rated NC-17.

It had taken a lot of persuasion to get them as far as they’d come. Fleur had always prided herself on her negotiation skills, on her ability to read other people, on her instinct for _manipulation_.

She’d planted that first seed in Viktor’s mind, curled around him in bed, steering the conversation with an artful sort of nonchalance, and coaxed at it for weeks, feeding it and fawning over it until it took root and began to colour Viktor’s thoughts without her help.

She’d seen the way his eyes followed Cedric through the halls, and allowed herself the rush of pride that only victory could bring.

Cedric was a lovely boy, and very loyal to his girlfriend, and Fleur wasn’t too happy about how much she’d been forced to rely on her more _unworldly_ charms to lead him to her bed. She wasn’t used to exerting herself in such a manner, although the rewards had gone some way to repairing her damaged ego.

From there, she perfected a careful balance of praise and suggestion, shaping the fantasy but never giving them time to dwell on her conjured imagery, never affording them the opportunity to reject it. Always quick to distract, and Fleur knew all the _loveliest_ forms of distraction.

And it had all been so very worth the effort, to find herself sprawled on the large bed, Cedric struggling to support himself above her. His head bowed, and his mouth open to each wet and ragged breath. Trapped and just a little bit frantic and Fleur could see his eyes dancing behind the tightly closed eyelids.

Viktor was always a surprisingly considerate lover, gentle and slow and purposeful, and he paused frequently to lower his fingers into the scented oil, and Cedric stole each moment as a chance to recapture his breath and his composure. 

Fleur drank in each wince and each gasp and each reluctant jolt of Cedric’s hips. Marvelled in the way she could tell when Viktor began to use another finger, felt each of Cedric’s groans as if they reverberated through her own pelvis. She soothed his face, fingers idly tracing his cheekbones, and cherished the way he kissed at her palm as his body embraced the burning ache.

It had taken time, but Fleur was absolutely certain she’d found a dynamic that could be _theirs_.


	3. Mistake

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It’s his own fault.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Written for [OT3-100](http://ot3-100.livejournal.com), prompt "immature". Rated G.

“If you touch me, I shall make you regret it.”

Fleur and Cedric didn’t stop advancing, identically wicked grins on their faces. Viktor had a feeling it was going to be a long, and uncomfortable, afternoon.

His assumption, unfortunately, proved correct when, an hour later, Cedric was _still_ sat proudly on his stomach, pinning him to the bed. Fleur lay across his calves, casting all sorts of torturous spells on the soles of his feet.

He’d long since given up trying to quell the tears that now spilled freely down his cheeks. “You are both very cruel,” he gasped.

“Brought it on yourself,” Cedric laughed. “You shouldn’t have told us you were ticklish.”


	4. Severed

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They’re tied together, trapped together.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Character death. Written for [OT3-100](http://ot3-100.livejournal.com), prompt "connect". Rated PG-13.

It’s all about that first time, when their eyes meet across the dramatic light of the fireplace. All stood tall and proud, jaws set and competition in their glares. It’s all about the tension that _crackles_ around them, louder than the sparks dancing over the coals and the paintings whispering in their frames. 

And then Harry Potter stumbles into the room and the tension shatters like falling glass.

It’s all about dragons, screaming and soaring and imminent. Everybody knows, and nobody pretends to be surprised. It’s all about hearts thumping in their chests and trying to keep their gaze level and each of them trying to appear more calm, more _ready_ than the other.

And then Harry Potter takes to the sky and everybody’s choking on their own fear and their own anticipation.

It’s all about murky water, impossible to see the bottom no matter how hard they may squint. Exposed in so little clothing and still holding on to that defiance. It’s all about knowing what’s at stake, racing to save their loved ones and racing against each other.

And then Harry Potter emerges from the Lake and he’s tired and gasping and there are _two_ people clinging to him.

It’s all about high walls, twisting turns and corners and dead-ends. Running from each other, towards each other, searching for the centre of insanity. It’s all about spells and bared teeth, accusations and pointing fingers and the fire between them has never been so obvious and they feel it in their bones and it _burns_.

And then Harry Potter falls from the sky and the body in his arms is lifeless and the link is broken.


	5. Tiara

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Princesses always get what they want

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Written for [OT3-100](http://ot3-100.livejournal.com), prompt "fairytale". Rated G.

When Fleur was young, her mother told her that she was selfish, and that it was a Very Good Thing. Selfish people, her mother confided, didn’t believe in things like empathy and other silly notions that all boiled down to other people, other selfish people, trying to share their burdens.

Selfish people were far too absorbed in their own plight to try and help other people, and that was a Very Good Thing, because there was nothing more frustrating than being harassed by somebody who thought they could solve your problems, who thought you were incapable of surviving on your own.

Selfish people, her mother insisted, knew their own goals and they strived to achieve them. They didn’t float listlessly through life, taking up space and blocking the paths of others. Selfish people had motives, and their being selfish often offered them the means, and this was a Very Good Thing.

Fleur had listened ardently, because her mother was very wise and beautiful and strong. There were a lot of things that Fleur wanted, but most of all Fleur wanted to be a Princess. She wanted to be regal and unreachable and she wanted to be loved, even if it was from afar. 

So, really, it didn’t come as much surprise that Fleur fell in love with _two_ Triwizard Champions.

Because Fleur was selfish, and so she wanted two Prince Charmings, and she didn’t see how possessing both could be anything but a Very Good Thing.


	6. Disciplined

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fleur discovers a new appreciation for the Beauxbaton’s uniform.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Cross-dressing. Questionable consent. Voyeurism. Written for [OT3-100](http://ot3-100.livejournal.com), prompt "dress up". Rated R.

It suits him. It really shouldn’t; the delicate fabric strains over his broad shoulders, it looks rather tight around his neck, and the sleeves fall too high on his arms. Even with the charms she worked into the cloth to make it stretch without losing its shape, it still pinches and pulls in awkward places. 

Yet, somehow, the feminine cut only serves to heighten his masculinity, to make him even more boyish, even more handsome.

And, judging by the way Viktor is staring, it falls in a wonderfully flattering manner over the curves of his arse.

Cedric glares at her, a delightful flush staining his cheeks. He looks outraged and embarrassed and thoroughly _debauched_. Infinitely more beautiful than the dozens of Victorian dolls that decorated Fleur’s childhood bedroom. She grew bored of their lifeless faces many years ago. She can’t imagine she’ll ever grow bored of the vision in front of her. 

The Beauxbatons uniform is rather renowned for leaving little to the imagination. Indeed, it doesn’t do much to protect Cedric’s modesty, barely skimming the tops of his thighs. He appears to notice where Fleur’s gaze is falling, where it lingers, and struggles again, but Viktor has a firm grip on his wrists, pinning them high up his back.

Fleur awards him with an indulgent smile, and turns her gaze to Viktor. He rips his gaze from the sinuous material to her face and she’s certain her own expression echoes his open _lust_ , the fierce passion there, the need to _possess_. She watches as he swallows thickly, throat working, and raises an eyebrow.

Viktor has grown almost as talented as Gabrielle at reading Fleur’s more subtle changes in expression, and he takes her smile as the permission she intends it to be. 

Cedric makes the most wonderful noise when Viktor’s hand roughly shoves the back of the skirt up, and his mouth falls open as that hand shifts around his thigh, slipping around to the front, moving to dip between his legs. The movement beneath the expensive fabric is wickedly sinful, positively _filthy_ , and Fleur feels her chest seize as Cedric tries to jerk forward and Viktor easily prevents him with his one-handed grip on Cedric’s wrists.

Cedric gasps and chokes on a groan.

Viktor frowns in concentration and glances at Fleur.

Fleur sighs and settles back to watch.


	7. Unclean

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Not so good, not so clean _fun_ in the Prefect's bathroom.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Voyeurism. Written for [OT3-100](http://ot3-100.livejournal.com), prompt "ghost". Rated NC-17.

The water slaps against the tiles with each frantic thrash. Bubbles spill over the edge of the elaborate bath, and the scent of soap and pineapple dances through the air. 

Viktor emerges from beneath the surface, directly in front of Fleur, droplets of water following the curves of pectorals down to defined stomach muscles. A living wet dream, emphasis on the wet. 

Fleur flicks damp hair from her face and smirks, and it’s both saucy and sweet, and Viktor takes deep breaths of air and looks happily resigned. He accepts the brief kiss, and allows her hands on his shoulders to push him back down. Manages to roll his eyes before he submerges.

Cedric grins broadly and wraps his arms around Fleur’s naked chest from behind her, and Fleur’s giggle turns into a groan as Viktor repositions himself between her legs. Cedric’s fingers slide over her breasts, a slippery massage, teasing at her nipples, and Fleur leans against him and laughs and moans and sighs. Cedric’s cock moves slowly between her lower cheeks, up and down, barest friction in the water and the loveliest sensation, and below the surface Viktor nuzzles at her and blows bubbles against her clitoris. 

Across the room, Moaning Myrtle watches, unseen.


	8. Masterpiece

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Three-piece puzzle solved.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Written for [OT3-100](http://ot3-100.livejournal.com), prompt "pictures". Rated G.

Aesthetic is everything.

Fleur is breathtakingly beautiful. The gentle curves of her figure are endlessly captivating, perfectly in proportion and unmistakably feminine. Her white-blonde hair frames the delicate features of her face, casts the most flattering of shadows over her cheekbones. Her eyes sizzle and scorch, despite the icy blue. She looks inhuman and untouchable and addictive.

Cedric is classically handsome. He’s the ideal that everybody imagines, brought to life and smiling his gratitude. Chiselled jaw and strong hands and broad shoulders and never still, yet never frantic. Every movement is controlled, seemingly designed as a display of his warmth. His hair is always in his eyes, begging strangers to brush it away, to touch him.

Viktor is rugged strength. He’s always thought of himself as his abilities, rather than his looks. He’s dark and unwelcoming and stands out in every way. But, with his arms around both Fleur and Cedric, standing tall between them, he considers them, their relationship, the way they look all together, to be a work of art.


	9. Lesson Learned

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> That’ll teach him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Written for [OT3-100](http://ot3-100.livejournal.com), prompt "taste". Rated NC-17.

Fleur’s hands brush up Cedric’s thighs, as gentle as she can force them to be. She clutches at Viktor’s fingers, which are digging into the flesh at Cedric’s hips. 

Above her, Cedric groans and shudders and she can’t resist pulling back, has to _see_ the look on his face. Allows her fingernails to scrape down his legs, allows his cock to slip from her lips. Cedric whimpers, and Fleur can’t keep the self-satisfied smirk from her face.

He’s panting and flushed all the way down his chest, sweat and sin. He’s long since given up trying to keep his eyes open, and his hand reaches for her blindly. She takes it, kisses each knuckle, lets it fall back to his side in a clenched white fist.

Viktor murmurs something and Cedric all but _shouts_ , and it could be Viktor’s name, or it could be Fleur’s, or it could be a plea for mercy.

Although, by now, Cedric should know that the latter is pointless.

Fleur can see most of Viktor through Cedric’s spread legs, can see his legs folded beneath him, his rippling chest and stomach, his obvious arousal. Naked and proud and dripping and delicious, and every muscle is perfectly defined beneath his skin.

Cedric whines, and the hair on the back of Fleur’s neck stands to attention. She watches the way Viktor’s grip on Cedric’s hips tightens, can’t see what he’s doing but can imagine it from experience, Viktor’s talented tongue pressing against and into Cedric’s opening, teasing and ferocious in its unrelenting assault. 

Fleur suddenly feels empty, her mouth wet and her tongue craving Cedric’s taste. 

The noise above her is far too wild to be described as anything but a _scream_ , and she takes the time to swipe her tongue over the head of Cedric’s cock, to push at the slit and lap up every drop of leaked pleasure. It feels natural and endless when she opens her throat, takes as much of the flesh into her as she feels inclined, simply holds it there for a moment, before swallowing around it with a satisfied hum. 

Cedric sobs, his hands running over and through her hair.

Fleur suspects this may be the very best way to teach Cedric not to imply that she and Viktor have an oral fixation.


	10. Discovery

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shouldn’t be there, shouldn’t be watching.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Voyeurism. Written for [OT3-100](http://ot3-100.livejournal.com), prompt "kiss". Rated PG-13.

Krum had Fleur pinned against the wall. She looked so frail with him crowded up against her, like she might just _break_ at any moment, but her hands were grasping at his biceps, clawing down his arms, dragging him closer.

Cedric swallowed thickly, and tried to will his legs to move, to back him slowly from the room.

Fleur’s head was tilted back to accommodate Krum’s height, and the only word to describe the way his mouth moved over hers was _ravishment_. His motions were insistent, yet slow, drawing her bottom lip into his mouth, and Cedric could see a hint of tongue, and he could feel a familiar tightening in his groin.

And Fleur’s eyes opened, flickered towards him, and Cedric was sweating and terrified and had never felt so completely out of place, so out of his depth.

But Fleur merely drew back from Krum, inclined her head towards Cedric at Krum’s puzzled look.

And when both faces turned to him, Cedric recognised their expressions as a _welcome_.


	11. Phallic

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> She could always hold her own with the boys.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Cross-dressing. Strap-on. Written for [OT3-100](http://ot3-100.livejournal.com), prompt "sex". Rated R.

She felt like a different person, which was almost the point of it, but not quite. She was still _her_ , even when she was being _him_. Not that she’d named him, because then he/she/it really _would_ be a different person.

But she felt empowered in a completely different way to that which she was used to. Nothing like the sensation and satisfaction of using her more feminine wiles to achieve her goals. This was more raw, more _potent_ , and entirely new.

Looking down made her feel dizzy, made vertigo spin around her, even with her feet planted on the floor. The shirt was still buttoned over her strapped-down breasts, loose and lying flat against her, but the trousers were unzipped, exposing her so _sinfully_.

God, she couldn’t stop _touching_ it. Running her hands over it, feeling the weight in her palm, the heat from her body warming it until it felt natural, until it felt _real_. The softer latex covering the harder centre, the angle reaching up towards her. She could feel it _move_ , bobbing slightly as she took a step forward.

They were both staring at her with wide eyes and dry mouths and desperation and _hunger_ , and Cedric had an iron grip on Viktor’s arm.

Fleur’s fingers idly traced the head, tickled along the shaft. “Who’s first?” she asked, careful to drop her voice, to keep the illusion alive. She jutted her hips forward, as if she needed to draw attention to the strap-on. “Bend over.”


	12. Collision

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It was only a matter of time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Written for [OT3-100](http://ot3-100.livejournal.com), prompt "fight". Rated R.

There are plenty of places they could train. There’s no need for them to even _see_ each other outside of meal times and the Tasks, really. There are endless empty classrooms in the castle.

It’s rather pointless to fight over one room. But, honestly, they were just _looking_ for an excuse.

There are harsh words, and clenched fists, and a challenge thrown down, and then there’s nothing but _adrenaline_. Ducking, dodging, curses and hexes and raised voices and nobody would be able to stop them, even if there were somebody there willing to try.

They should be hiding and backing away from each other, but there’s a manic look on their faces and they’re all beyond logic and reason.

They edge towards each other, spells becoming crueller, rebounding from one to the other to the next. Sparks fly and curtains burn and the walls are seared black.

When they meet in the middle of the room, there should be an _explosion_.

Should be.

Instead, there’s only the sound of wands clattering to the ground, forgotten and useless. Fabric ripping and snarls and groans and desperate panting. Fingernails on skin and teeth on flesh and lips everywhere they can reach. 

Instead, there’s a different kind of challenge, and one they’re all determined to win.


End file.
